


Beautifully Broken

by WinterMaidenMuse



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Feels, Depression, Domestic Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Loss, Forgiveness, Gang Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Loss of Parent(s), Orphans, Reconciliation, Redemption, Rehabilitation, Romance, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:41:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26306503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterMaidenMuse/pseuds/WinterMaidenMuse
Summary: Lucy and Gray are both very broken people, with painful pasts that they don't want to remember. One day, Gray catches Lucy as she tries to break into his apartment. What happens then? A story exploring loss, pain and hurt, for both Gray and Lucy, and how they come together to help each other heal, and make peace with their pain. Inspired by the song: Be As One (w-inds). Complete.
Relationships: Gray Fullbuster/Lucy Heartfilia
Kudos: 14





	1. Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a long time since I've written a fanfic, and this is my first time writing for Fairy Tail. I've recently been very inspired, listening to Fairy Tail theme songs and rewatching scenes... especially of my favourite pairing (GrayLu)... so here I am with new stories fueled by this sudden creative spurt!
> 
> This story was inspired by the Fairy Tail ending song, Be As One by w-inds, and it's a beautiful song that was dedicated to Gray. My favourite character is Gray (no surprises there!), and that song evoked such melancholic emotions in me that I felt this strong urge to explore Gray's pain. 
> 
> And of course, I couldn't write about Gray without bringing my favourite pairing to life eh? So of course there's Lucy! :p
> 
> So about this story - firstly, it's AU. In order to explore the concept of pain, I had to come up with fictional pasts for them, so please don't expect it to mirror the anime too closely. I definitely kept both Gray's and Lucy's personalities in mind when I wrote it, but due to the nature of the story, there may be parts where you might find them to be OOC. I know the characters might seem OOC, but as I mentioned, this story is largely inspired by a song, Be As One by w-inds, and I'm trying to channel the emotions of the song as much as possible through Gray and Lucy. For me personally, the song brings to mind feelings of loss, loneliness, and longing, and that's what I'm aiming for here :) Do take a listen if you haven't! I think it's a beautiful song, and very fitting for Gray. 
> 
> Secondly, the chapters are about exploring their emotions, and their experiences. There's a lot of recounting, and there will be a chapter dedicated to each of them.
> 
> Lastly, this story is not meant to be a long one, and will likely wrap up in about 4 chapters or so. I hope you like it, and do leave a review! :)

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail or any of its characters.**

* * *

**Chapter 1: Darkness**

It was 3AM. The streets were deathly quiet, with not a soul to be seen. The only sounds that could be heard were the flickering of the street lamps, and the buzzing of flying insects relentlessly throwing themselves at the light in search of warmth. Little did the creatures know that the ball of light that represented their guide, their hope to where they wanted to be, was nothing but a manmade creation, a pseudo-salvation, merely a stationary bulb trying to keep itself alive, but failing miserably as it slowly flickered out of existence, having lived the life that it was mercifully given.

In this part of the city, you definitely don't want to be roaming the streets past sundown. There's a reason for why it was so deserted. Even during the day, walking around alone in this neighbourhood was a risk in itself. It was a neighbourhood full of gangs, drug dealers, and people who did what they needed just to get from day to day – to put morsels of food on the table. People who lived desolate lives with little to no purpose – because they can't die. For the pursuance of death actually required a moderate amount of bravery.

A pair of lifeless brown eyes scanned the streets. It was expectedly empty, but it always paid off to be cautious. A slender woman stepped out of the shadows, in a black turtleneck, and black leggings. She had her hair up in a bun, that was covered by a black beanie that was pulled tightly over her head. Her hands were covered in thin, black surgical gloves, and half her face was obscured by a black surgical mask. She was a figure of the shadows, and if anyone saw her – they should rightfully be afraid.

She ran towards a block of apartments down the street, treading lightly in her – no surprises there – black running shoes. She was an expert in stealth, with not a single stone or leaf disturbed as she made her way to her destination. The silence remained heavy in the air.

Upon reaching the block, she stole another quick glance around before stepping off the pavement, to the side of the building, which faced a public park. Along the side of the building were windows belonging to the first floor apartments, and which were partially shielded by large trees planted right in front of the building, to afford the residents some form of privacy. She crept along the bed of soil until she reached the window that was three-quarters of the way to the back of the building. Once there, she reached for the small pocket at the back of her leggings, and took out a small lock-picking kit.

This was what she had come for. She opened the kit, and started fiddling with the simple lock that kept the window closed. Not three minutes later, she had it opened, and she deftly swung her lithe body into the house.

She had been eyeing this apartment for a week. She didn't often come to this part of the city, partly because she knew it had a bad reputation, but also because she didn't have any reason to. It's not like she knew someone who lived here, or lived here herself. The only reason why she even stepped foot into this neighbourhood was because a customer who had visited the club that she worked part-time at, had caught her eye.

She worked part-time as a bartender and server at a club in town that was notorious for its patrons. It was _the_ social hangout for high-ranking gang members, drug dealers and the like. She never mixed work with her personal life, and always kept up a professional front. However, the owner of this particular apartment had visited one day, and she was surprised to see how young he was. Definitely way too young to be a leader of a gang, and the way he spoke sounded too educated to be living the street life. And so she became curious.

When he left, she had just finished her shift, so she had followed him home… to this seedy neighbourhood. Yet another surprise that further piqued her curiosity, leading her to continue her stalking pursuit for another week. Finally, she decided that he was oddly well-off despite living here, and his apartment was worth breaking into. Which brings her to her current situation.

She let out a small, triumphant smirk, scoffing at how easy it was to break into a house. All these well-to-do fools who got complacent, thinking nothing would ever happen to them, with their top-of-the-line security systems. What a joke – don't ever underestimate the power of a simple bobby pin. It's not about the tools, it's about the user. Granted, this house didn't exactly _have_ security in any sense, but this was yet another successful break-in to add to her count.

She took a step forward, still blinking as she tried to make out the dark shapes in the room she was in. Suddenly, a large hand quickly covered her mouth, and another strong arm wrapped around her slender frame roughly. Her eyes widened in panic – how did she not sense anyone in the room when she entered, and why would anyone be awake?! – and she thrashed wildly in the forceful grip of the stranger. She let out a muffled cry and tried to bite her captor's hand, but to no avail as he applied more pressure on her face, causing a dull ache to start up.

Her heart was beating wildly – no, this was not what she had planned! What was going to happen to her? Was he going to kidnap and torture her? Sell her off? Rape her and abuse her? There was no telling as to what goes on in the minds of the people who lived here – moral code certainly did not exist in their vocabulary. Terrified, she could feel moisture welling up in her lifeless eyes. The word 'pathetic' repeatedly formed in her mind.

The stranger had carried her effortlessly into another room, one that she could sense was much smaller than the one she had broken into. He threw her roughly against the wall, and switched on the light – a lone bulb illuminating what seemed like a storeroom. However, it was completely barren. Her heart caught in her throat, as she stared up into the mouth of a cocked gun pointing right at her head.

"You've been following me." The light had also revealed the stranger. He had deep navy eyes, which were matched by messy, spiky navy hair. His body was lean, but well-built and muscular. Despite being in his own home, he wore a pair of dark denim jeans, with a grey long-sleeved shirt. His face displayed no emotion, but his lips were pressed together tightly into a thin line. His voice was deep, smooth, and commanding. It was a confident statement, with no room for denial nor negotiation.

She sat in silence, lifeless brown eyes meeting hard, navy orbs.

"Why have you been following me?" This time, he was demanding an answer – and silence wasn't it. His grip on the gun was unwavering, his arm locked in position.

"I needed money. You looked rich." Her voice was as emotionless as her eyes.

He stood there for a few moments, seemingly analysing her. Finally, he lowered the gun down. "You chose the wrong man to rob. Take off your mask, your hat, and your gloves."

Despite her outwardly calm demeanour, she was shaking on the inside. She just wanted to get out of here. She removed her mask and her beanie, revealing a neat bun of golden hair, and a smooth, pretty face. She moved to take off her gloves next, but they were tucked into the sleeves of her turtleneck top. She pushed up the sleeves of both arms, and pulled the gloves off. Before she could adjust her sleeves back down, the man caught a glimpse of the multiple scars decorating both her forearms. Something flashed in his eyes.

He moved forward, grabbing her arms tightly, making her let out a soft yelp, her face scrunching slightly in pain - her first time expressing emotion of any kind. He gave her a glare, and roughly yanked back the sleeves of her turtleneck further. What he saw made his heart ache.

Her arms were littered with lines upon lines of scars, some criss-crossing, but mostly parallel to one another. Some were light, resembling simple paper cuts or accidental scratches, but there were numerous deep scars, protruding slightly from her skin due to the formation of keloids. Seeing the blatant evidence of prolonged self-harm – there was no way this amount of scars could be amassed in a short timeframe – awoke a feeling in him that he thought he'd never feel. He felt sad.

He released her arms, and took a step back. She quickly pulled down her sleeves, rubbing her arms to ease the pain from the man's cruel grip, which was sure to cause bruising. She clenched her teeth, and glared hard at him. Also, for the first time, he saw an inkling of emotion in her lifeless eyes – anger and hate, but still it was at least _something_.

He extended an arm out to her. "Get up, and follow me." When he saw that she didn't make any move, he sighed and reached down, almost pulling her arm out from its socket with the force he exerted. He kept his hold on her shoulder, albeit gentler this time, towing her to another room. This one was larger, and he sat her down in soft plush chair. "Stay, and don't move. I'll shoot if you run." She gulped.

Less than thirty seconds later, he was back – with two cups of warm water. He placed them on the small table in front of her, before taking a seat in the plush chair directly opposite. What in the world was going on, she had absolutely no clue. Just ten minutes ago, she was being held at gunpoint, but now, her kidnapper was offering her water and letting her sit in his living room, looking like he was about to make teatime conversation with her.

"I'm Gray."

She wanted to laugh. What sort of ridiculous situation was this? It was almost 4AM for goodness' sake, and he was acting like they were in a networking session? This man is nuts!

"And why should I care?" her tone revealed exactly how she felt about this whole set-up.

"Because I think you need help," he replied simply.

Her eyebrows furrowed in a deep frown. What was he talking about? "Help? Unless you're intending to write me a cheque out of the kindness of your heart, no I don't think I need any help."

He let out a small laugh. She couldn't see his face – he hadn't turned on the lights – but she could make out a small smirk from the moonlight streaming in through the windows in the room. She expected him to say something snarky in response, but he kept quiet. Instead, he sat forward, and rolled up the sleeves of his grey long-sleeved shirt.

She gasped. His arms were similarly decorated with scars, from his wrist all the way up to his biceps. Dotted in between cut scars, were circular nubs, indicative of cigarette burns. On his left wrist, a large scar stuck out, about 10cm and bearing some resemblance to a centipede. That looked like it came from a severe injury.

Her eyes shot up to meet his, which could finally be seen after the messy hair casting shadows on his face shifted slightly. She didn't know what to say.

He continued staring into her eyes. "I know you're in pain. I was, too. I didn't know I needed help back then, and I wished I knew. If you need help, I can help you," he said softly, in his deep but oddly comforting voice.

Tears welled up in her eyes – eyes that couldn't be torn away from the gaze of this strange man. She didn't know him – he could be a serial murderer and rapist for all she knew, but there was something about him that made her want to simply break down and cry into his arms. She has had a tough life. She spent years building up this fortress around her. She had become numb to emotions, incapable of feeling anything more than sadness. She had become so detached that life had left her eyes, and she was as good as a living shell of a person. She lived in darkness. Nothing brought her joy, and she couldn't remember the last time she had smiled or laughed out of sincere happiness. She abhorred happiness. Happiness was a myth – it does not exist. Humans simply created the idea of happiness in order to fuel their desperate need for meaning and purpose in their short, inconsequential lives.

But why did she feel like this man had the power to put the pieces of her back together again?

"I'm… Lucy."

* * *

**And that's all for Chapter 1!** Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!

Do leave a review :)

x, WinterMaidenMuse


	2. Lucy

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail or any of its characters.**

* * *

**Chapter 2: Lucy**

"I will always love you, Lucy," Layla whispered, placing a fragile hand on 7-year old Lucy's tear-stained cheeks. Her fingers traced a wet path along her skin, gently caressing her daughter's face. She was dying, and they knew that. "You have to live on and be strong, for me…" her voice faded out as she struggled to even find the strength to form the sentence.

Lucy let out a loud sob, her small hands grasping her mother's frail hand tightly. Her tears continued to pour down her face. The downpour outside was mirroring her own tears, raining heavily in despair. The world was in mourning.

"No, mama, I don't want you to go," she cried out, her voice breaking. "Don't leave me alone!"

A small smile showed on Layla's face. "You're not alone, you have daddy. And I'll always be in your heart."

The room was silent as Lucy shook her head violently, her blonde locks flying around her face. "No! Mama! Please!"

It was time. Layla moved her hand to take Lucy's, and put all the strength she had left in that last tight squeeze she gave her daughter. "I love you forever, Lucy," she said, her own eyes welling up with heavy tears as they slid close for the last time. Her grip loosened, and her hand fell onto the soft mattress, limp and lifeless.

That was when Lucy's life started falling apart.

Lucy was born into the Heartfilia family, a rich family that specialised in real estate. Her father, Jude, was a world-famous real estate tycoon, and he ran his household in the same, cold, heartless, business-like manner that he ran his conglomerate.

The family's only saving grace was the lady of the household, Lady Layla Heartfilia, who was the embodiment of sunshine and cheer. Wherever she went, whenever she spoke – people around her could feel the genuine warmth that exuded from her in generous waves. It seemed like she was incapable of being upset, or gloomy – she always managed to find positivity in every circumstance, and it stood in stark contrast to her husband.

Layla and Jude had two daughters – Lucy, and Michelle, who was Lucy's baby sister. When Layla fell sick with cancer, Michelle was only a year old, and was too young to remember much of their mother. Lucy had watched as Layla's condition gradually deteriorated, with the sunshine in her slowly dissipating until she became a shell of who she once was.

The entire mansion had been enveloped with melancholy as everyone – including the household employees – dreaded the day that Layla would inevitably depart from the world. Despite having plenty of money to spare, even engaging the best doctors in the world couldn't help to cure Layla of this terrible disease that was stealing her life away from her.

Lucy, the little Lady of the house, bore the brunt of the change in the house. The light in her eyes dimmed, and she lost her childhood innocence. After her mother died, nobody saw her smile anymore – unless it was for Michelle. Lucy would do anything for Michelle.

Following Layla's death, Jude began making more frequent business trips to faraway countries, and for longer periods of time. They would last minimally two weeks, with some extending up to three months. He poured himself into his work, and what little heart he had, vanished completely. He became known as ruthless, in addition to his hard-hearted reputation. Soon, Jude turned into an alcoholic.

He would come home from his trips, and immediately lock himself in his private study. Everybody knew what he was doing inside – drowning himself in his collection of exquisite alcohol in an attempt to forget the pain of the loss of his beloved wife. He was barely a father in the years after, and Lucy and Michelle were both largely raised by the household's nannies.

To Lucy, her dad was as good as non-existent. The mansion they lived in was big enough for them to avoid seeing each other – besides, there was no need for that. He acted like they didn't exist, so why should they acknowledge his presence? If anything, he was a nuisance. When he got drunk, he would start shouting profanities and hurl verbal abuse at his servants. His brash voice resounded along the corridors, amplifying the already-tense atmosphere that hung around the Heartfilia home every time he returned. Sometimes Lucy wished he would just up and leave completely one day. When he got into one of his moods, Lucy would quickly go to Michelle, and distract her with bedtime stories, songs or video games.

But the real horror only began when Lucy turned fifteen. By then, she had blossomed into a fine, young lady. Her body had matured, showing off shapely curves and long legs. She had also lost her past baby fat, with a slim jawline and beautiful, brown eyes that she had inherited from her mother. She took the most pride in her long, golden locks – another trait that was her mother's trademark. She loved the colour of her hair, because it reminded her of the sun; her mother, her forever sunshine.

* * *

Lucy remembered the day like it was yesterday. It was a Wednesday afternoon, and she had just come back from school. She popped her head into Michelle's room to check on her, and upon seeing her concentrating hard on her homework, let out a small smile as her gaze softened. After their mother's passing, she had been trying her utmost best to fill the big shoes that were left behind. She wanted Michelle to grow up as well as possible.

Lucy made her way to her own room, before pausing in her steps when she heard a door slamming loudly. There was only one person who would be so violent in the house – but they weren't expecting him to return for a couple more weeks at least.

Puzzled, she decided to take a peek and confirm if it was really her father that was back.

She was a few steps away from his room when suddenly the door swung open. She gasped in surprise, as he stood before her, topless and only in a pair of loose slacks. As usual, he was obviously inebriated – he had bloodshot eyes, his body reeked of alcohol and his left hand was holding a bottle of whisky.

She didn't utter a sound as she took a step back, ready to make a quick exit, when his loud voice boomed. "Lucy, aren't you going to say hi to your daddy?"

His words sent shivers up her spine. For some reason, they sounded sinister and a strong sense of foreboding came over her. However, she didn't want to risk incurring his wrath, especially in his drunken state. "Hello," she replied stoically, without acknowledging him as her father.

An evil smirk settled on his face, and his eyes started roving up and down her body. For the first time in a long while, she felt fear. He typically never made conversation with her, even during the rare occasions that they happened to bump into each other in the house. However, this time, as she felt his eyes raking over her form, as though he was mentally undressing her, she couldn't help but feel a deep sense of dread settle in the pit of her stomach at the monstrous thoughts that might be going through his mind.

"My oh my, Lucy, how did I not notice how beautiful you've become? You look just like your mother," he drawled drunkenly. He took several steps forward, coming to a stop in front of her. He stank terribly of alcohol, but Lucy was so stricken with fear that she couldn't move her legs. She was rooted to the spot. He lifted a callused hand, and traced it along her cheek. Jude bent down, and whispered, "For a fine lady like you, don't you want to know what a real man feels like?"

_'No, no, no, this cannot be happening,'_ Lucy repeated to herself in her mind, as she stared up in horror, at what her father was insinuating. This couldn't be happening, right? He was her father, and despite not being much of one over the last eight years, she was still his flesh and blood, and he would never do such a thing to her, right? At that moment in time, Lucy couldn't be sure.

He grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her roughly into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him and dragging her over to his king-sized bed before throwing her onto it. Lucy cried out in pain at his rough treatment, and her breathing started getting faster as she started panicking. Jude turned to put down the whisky bottle on a table. Trying to leverage her small size and agility, she quickly pushed herself off the bed, intending to make a run for the door, but Jude, despite being plastered, had fast enough reflexes to turn around and grab hold of her long hair, jerking her head back painfully.

Lucy screamed in a mixture of pain, shock and fear, hoping some servants would be nearby and hear her, but to no avail. Jude chuckled darkly as he yanked her head back towards his face. "What a naughty little girl. Now daddy's going to have to teach you a lesson for being bad."

He threw her on the bed again, his face contorted into an expression of evil glee. He quickly unbuckled his pants, and removed them together with his underwear, revealing the evidence of his obvious arousal. Lucy was cowering on the bed, with her hands over her eyes as she tried to make herself wake up from this horrible nightmare.

Jude pried her thin arms away, and in an act of brute force, ripped open her white school blouse. He didn't even bother removing her skirt, merely flipping it up and pulling down her panties. He licked his lips, and climbing on top of her, smashed his mouth against hers in a rough kiss, almost making her gag at the putrid smell and taste of his alcohol-saturated mouth. She tried to struggle against his large form, using her arms to hit him repeatedly – in the head, in his face, in his chest – until he got fed up and growled at her, pinning her arms above her head.

"Seems like you don't want to learn your lesson do you? I'll just have to force you to learn then."

Jude gave her a tight slap across her face, with such force that a red imprint immediately formed on Lucy's cheek. Tears involuntarily welled up in her eyes, as Jude laughed in ill-concealed delight, madness flaring in his eyes. She was in absolute shock. And the next moment, the unthinkable happened – he penetrated her by force, and Lucy screamed in agony as pain ripped through her lower half. All the light went out in her eyes that day.

* * *

Lucy turned to drugs to cope with her father's sexual abuse. She had begun hanging out with a group of delinquents from school, and as part of the 'initiation process', they brought her to one of their drug parties. That was the first time she had experienced getting high, and she relished the feeling of being able to be transported into another realm for some time. For a few hours, she was able to pretend like the nightmare at home didn't exist, and she could just float in her own bubble of oblivion. If she couldn't actually run away from real life, then she could at least escape temporarily into this safe haven that the chemicals created.

The only good thing – not sure if it's a blessing or a curse, to be honest – from being born a Heartfilia was the wealth that came with the name. She had no money issues, and could easily afford all the drugs she needed. She made sure to always have a stash at home, because that was the only thing that could keep her sane after each round of abuse dealt out by her father. While undergoing her ordeal, she would detach herself from her physical self, and just keep her mind focused on the escape that would come after, in the form of her drugs. In her alternate reality, there was only her mother, Michelle and her. There was no Jude, no cancer, no pain, no sadness.

During the three years of sexual abuse that went on, Lucy's sole purpose in the home was to protect Michelle from the fiend that was their father. She explicitly told all servants in the household to never speak of Michelle, and to always ensure Michelle was hidden away from Jude. Although Michelle couldn't really understand why, she trusted Lucy with her life, and never questioned her. Jude came to forget about Michelle's presence, because he was so preoccupied with Lucy. Since Michelle was only a baby when Layla passed away, he didn't have many memories of the four of them together.

One fateful day, Lucy was looking for her secret stash of drugs to do a stock-take. She opened her wardrobe, and took out a stuffed bear from the back of the closet. There was a small zippered compartment in the bear's side, and there was where she hid her drugs.

She unzipped the pouch, expecting to see the small Ziploc bags as usual, but she was alarmed when they weren't there. There was no way she could have misplaced them, and she was the only person who knew where they were kept, or even about her drug addiction. She tried to think back to the last time she used them – could she have accidentally thrown them away while high? No… she was very careful and always made sure they were properly handled.

_No!_ A horrifying thought struck her as she dropped the bear, her hands shaking in fear. A sudden realisation hit her like a ton of bricks, and she felt terribly sick. _Could it have been…?_

She whipped around and dashed out of her room, in the direction of Michelle's bedroom. Flinging the door wide open, hoping against all hope to see her beloved baby sister napping or reading a storybook, her eyes widened in horror at the sight before her. Her mouth opened in silent shock, and she fell to her knees in anguish.

Michelle laid sprawled on the carpeted floor, with her eyes glazed over, foaming at her mouth. A Ziploc bag was in her small hand, and there were several more unopened on her bedside table. Her brown hair fanned out around her head, framing her beautiful but lifeless face. Was it ironic that even in death, Michelle was looking towards the door, as though she was expecting Lucy to come in and save her? Despite all the efforts Lucy had put into protecting her, and making sure she could live a good life, it was Lucy herself that ended up killing Michelle.

She had no more meaning in life; no more reason to live. The two singularly most important people in her life had left her behind in this cruel world, with monsters around her – how was she going to continue living? She didn't want to live in a world without Layla, without Michelle. Lucy's heart shattered as she screamed in pain and sorrow, large sobs wracking her slender frame. No! Why? Why did this have to happen to her? Was her life not already a living hell?

Her cries resonated around the house, as it began to pour outside. Lucy hugged Michelle's limp body close, rocking her body, pressing her nose into her hair, taking in her scent as much as she could. Memories of playing with Michelle, studying with Michelle, bringing Michelle out around the city flashed through her mind. She had never felt more lonely that she did at that moment. Michelle's joyous smile whenever Lucy gave her a present, her mischievous tone when she wanted to prank Lucy, her sleepy eyes as she held Lucy's hand while being read a bedtime story. Michelle telling her how much she loved and trusted her, telling her that she never wanted to leave her. They would grow old and live together forever. Now, it was never going to happen.

Lucy held Michelle with one hand, punching her other fist into the floor until her knuckles became raw and red. That was how the head servant had found her, and Michelle, later that evening.

Unfortunately, there was no way they could hide the drugs once they reported Michelle's death, and the cause of death was found to be a drug overdose. Lucy was checked into a drug rehabilitation centre.

* * *

In a way, the rehab centre provided her with some respite from her living hell. At least Jude couldn't touch her, and that gave her some solace. However, she counted each day that went by – counting down to the end of her life. With each day that passed, it was one day closer to meeting Layla and Michelle again. She battled with severe depression and anxiety, and spent many days and nights in therapy, on top of her rehab program.

She didn't remember much from her rehab days, because she was pretty much in a daze the majority of the time. Except for one other person – a guy with messy, navy hair, and deep navy eyes. She didn't make any friends, and kept mostly to herself, but the only reason why she remembered him was because she would sometimes see him come out of the therapy clinic, and also because of the large protruding scar on his left wrist. She had seen it when they were queuing up for food in the canteen, and he had stretched his arm out to grab something.

It was an angry-looking scar, and coupled with his hard, angry eyes, she had wondered what caused it. However, she didn't care enough to find out more, and they went about their own separate lives within the centre.

Six months flew by – and Lucy finished her rehabilitation program successfully.

* * *

Having stepped foot out of the Heartfilia home for the first time in 19 years, with an option to not return home, Lucy felt an odd sense of peace. While she still had the occasional depressive episodes, she was stable enough to find a job and live a normal life. She could return home of course – the mansion was still there, but that place held too many bad memories. She knew that if she returned, she would become suicidal and it would just result in a downward spiral.

However, she didn't know where to start. She ended up finding a part-time job as a bartender in a small club, where she met a guy called Sting. They had a whirlwind romance, and in the span of several months, she had moved in with him. To her, he presented the perfect solution to her problems – he had an apartment, they were in love, they could live happily ever after. But of course, nothing good usually comes out of a rushed relationship, especially with someone she barely knew. She thought she was deeply in love with him, and he with her – because he protected her from rowdy customers and offered her comfort and acceptance whenever she had her episodes. To her, that was what she thought was love.

Things took a turn for the worst when she started waiting tables as part of an expanded job scope. This meant that she had to interact with guests, and when drinks were involved, men tended to get more touchy-feely. Sting became extremely jealous, and often accused Lucy of intentionally flirting with customers, and seducing them for money. His jealousy turned into anger, which manifested itself as violence and physical abuse, and Lucy found herself trapped in another vicious environment.

Her wardrobe soon consisted of nothing but long pants and long-sleeved tops, which she needed in order to conceal the bruises and marks that Sting left on her body. While she knew that this wasn't supposed to be normal, she kept telling herself that it was a passing phase, and that he was just doing this out of his deep love for her. In order to placate him, she even quit her job at the club, and took up an admin role in a small company. However, Sting was blinded by his possessiveness of Lucy, and was convinced that she was cheating on him by sleeping with her boss.

On a day that she happened to be working overtime, he had stormed into the office, and had beaten up her boss. That resulted in Sting getting arrested, and her getting fired on the spot. Thankfully, her boss had decided not to press any charges. When she saw Sting being led away by the police, Lucy finally broke.

She wasn't going to try and find happiness anymore. Happiness did not exist; happiness was a lie – it was a construct that humans created in order to provide meaning to their short and inconsequential lives.

Look at Layla Heartfilia – she was such a beautiful, gentle, loving person, but what happened to her? She got cancer. Look at Michelle – she had such a bright future, she was smart and pretty, and had her whole life ahead of her. But guess what? She died because her own sister, whom she trusted with her life, was a drug addict. Why was it that these angels had their lives cruelly snatched away from them, when the truly evil, like Jude, Sting and herself, could live on?

So that's it – life was actually a punishment for those who deserved it. And because it was a punishment, there was no place for happiness.

The day her mother died, was the day she lost her world. Michelle had kept her going, but when she lost Michelle as well – it was like she lost her soul. There were two gaping holes left behind in her being, ones that continuously grow bigger with each day. The pain of their losses gnawed relentlessly away at her, and there wasn't a day that went by that she didn't mourn them. She couldn't be happy, it was not right. She needed to hurt, she needed to be punished. Physical pain was a reflection of the emotional turmoil she held within her heart, and they showed in the scars that she began to lay upon her arms.

Lucy was broken.

* * *

Gray sat in silence, staring contemplatively into the space behind Lucy as she clutched at her cup of warm water, occasional sobs shaking her body. Big, fat droplets of tears were rolling down her cheeks as she remembered memories that she had fought so hard to forget. Her whole life had been wrought with pain, and no matter what people said about how time being able to heal all wounds, her pain just never seemed to go away. Each thought of her mother, and Michelle, and her past mistakes, was like a fresh cut across her heart, like a wound that was constantly reopened before it could heal.

The last time she had broken down like this was more than a year ago, right after she had broken up with Sting, while trying to find a new job and start a new life. She thought she had finally managed to move past her past, sealing it away in the depths of her mind. But why was she unravelling completely in front of this stranger, a man whom she had decided to steal from? She couldn't explain why, but he felt strangely familiar, and her gut instinct told her she could trust him.

After several minutes had passed, Gray broke the silence. "You know, I was in rehab too. The exact same rehab centre you were in."

Lucy looked up in surprise, her wet eyes glistening with the moonlight that was streaming into the room. "You… were?"

Gray nodded. "Yeah, and I was there about the same time as you too. They made me go for therapy as well," he chuckled lightly to himself. "I'm glad I wasn't the only crazy one out there." He offered her a small smile, as he looked over at her.

She caught his eyes, and in that instant, with the knowledge that he had been in the same rehab centre as her, she recognised his dark navy orbs, and messy navy hair. _'Him...?'_ Her eyes moved to his left arm, that was laying casually across his lap as he sat in the chair. Oh, there it was – the large scar put the pieces together in her mind. This man, Gray, was the guy she would see in the rehab centre from time to time, coming out from the therapy room.

But this man was different now, than the person he used to be back then. His eyes were no longer hard and angry, instead, they held a deep sense of understanding, and was that _pain_? – layered underneath. Pain? For himself? Or, was it for her? She couldn't tell, but she found herself wanting to know more.

"How about you… what's your story?" Lucy asked softly. She lifted a hand to gesture towards his arms, where the multitude of scars lay. "Those must have hurt," she murmured.

Gray's lips tightened, before he let out a sigh, standing up from his seat. "Let me get more water for the both of us, because it's going to be a long story. I hope you don't mind."

* * *

**That wraps up Chapter 2!**

I hope it wasn't too heavy, and as realistic as possible. Let me know your thoughts/feedback, and do leave a review! :)

x, WinterMaidenMuse


	3. Gray

**A/N:**

Here's Chapter 3, dedicated to **Gray** \- the character that inspired this story :) Also, thank you all who submitted a Kudos, and for your kind support! It means the world to me!

I hope everyone enjoys this chapter, and as usual, I welcome all feedback and thoughts through reviews :) Do also check out the other one-shot story I've posted, specially for GrayLu Day 2020, hehe!

x, WinterMaidenMuse

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail or any of its characters.**

* * *

**CHAPTER 3: Gray**

Gray waved goodbye to his parents, a large smile adorning his face, his navy eyes sparkling with young excitement. His parents were going away to the neighbouring city to visit some friends for the weekend, and they had left him at home with a babysitter. They had promised to bring back plenty of sweet treats and souvenirs for him, and with that promise to look forward to, Gray happily bade them goodbye for the next two days.

It wasn't his first time alone at home – as owners of a small family business, the Fullbusters often made short trips to the surrounding cities for local fairs and events. When he was younger, they used to bring him along on their road trips and each business trip felt like a family holiday, but now that he was ten, he had school to attend, and couldn't be travelling as and when he wanted. While he was a little bummed that he didn't get to tag along with his parents as often now, he didn't really mind, because they always brought back tons of good food and gifts for him, and he liked hanging out with his friends in school.

This weekend was no exception, he had made them pinky-promise to be back soon with presents, and then they were off. After their car disappeared off into the distance, he quickly ran back to his bedroom, where his toys were waiting.

* * *

_Rrrrrring-rrrrring! Rrrrrring-rrrrring!_ The telephone rang shrilly. Gray's babysitter, Ultear, who was washing some dishes in the kitchen, frowned as she quickly wiped her hands dry on a tea towel. It was pretty late, around 9pm on a Sunday, and she and Gray had just finished eating some popcorn over a movie. To be frank, she was already working overtime – his parents were supposed to be back before dinner that day, but she enjoyed babysitting Gray and didn't mind the extra hours. After all, she had been babysitting for the Fullbuster family since Gray was three.

She made her way to the phone in the living room, picking it up with a gentle, "Hello?" She listened for a few seconds, before her jaw dropped open. Her voice shaking, she asked the caller, "I'm sorry, but could you repeat what you just s-said?"

The phone fell from her hands as she dropped to the floor with a loud thump. Gray, who was in his bedroom, came out in curiosity, wondering what had happened. He saw Ultear slumped beside the phone, and quickly made his way over to her. "Ultear onee-san, are you okay? What happened? Oh… why are you crying?" he cocked his head to one side, unsure of what was happening with his babysitter.

Ultear looked up with tear-stained cheeks, her eyes full of fresh tears. She reached her arms out and drew a confused Gray into her embrace, holding him tightly. "I'm so sorry, Gray…" she sobbed. He stood there awkwardly in her arms, but after a minute of just listening to her sniffles and not knowing what was going on, he struggled and pushed away from her.

"Why are you crying, onee-san? Tell me, I'm a big boy now!" Gray declared, planting his hands on his hips in a power stance. "I can protect onee-san too!"

Ultear broke down even more, crying loudly now. Finally, she paused, and taking a deep breath, she told him, "Gray… your papa and mama got into a bad car accident. They can't come home anymore… Gray… I'm so sorry…" Ultear's voice cracked as sobs broke free from her throat once again. "I'm so, so, s-sorry…"

Gray stood rooted to the ground. He never really had to deal with the concept of death before, because his grandparents had passed on before he was born. While he understood that death meant someone would not return anymore, he didn't think it would ever happen to his parents. His parents had told him, when it was their first time going away without him, "We'll always come back for you, Gray, so don't worry. We're not saying goodbye, we're saying 'see you later'!"

It was always a 'see you later', and never a 'goodbye'.

* * *

Gray's parents had been on their way back from the neighbouring city when the car accident happened. They were midway through the 3-hour drive, when they reached a narrow bridge that they had to cross, connecting the road over a large ravine. It was typically a two-way bridge, but due to some maintenance work being carried out on one lane, it had been reduced to a one-way bridge, with vehicles having to take turns to cross the bridge.

However, it just so happened that the usual stoplight that was installed temporarily was malfunctioning, and vehicles had to exercise their own discretion in making the decision to stop or cross. When the couple had arrived at the bridge, there were no other vehicles in sight, so they proceeded ahead.

Just as they reached the middle of the bridge, a heavy vehicle appeared on the other end that they were heading towards. While the vehicle was supposed to come to a stop and give way, the driver had instead ignored the warning signs. The heavy vehicle had continued forward onto the bridge, leaving no space for Gray's parents. The couple had swerved onto the cordoned-off side of the bridge in order to avoid the reckless truck driver, but due to the suddenness of the swerve and the narrowness of the bridge, Gray's father had turned the steering wheel too much, and with not enough time to alter the course of the car, they had barrelled through the side rails, falling into the ravine. There was no surviving the fall.

The truck driver had been drink-driving, which resulted in his clouded judgement and reckless driving, and the deaths of Gray's parents. He was apprehended shortly after, and given a twenty-year jail sentence, but that one act of folly had changed the life of young Gray forever.

With no other living kin, Gray was sent to live in an orphanage. It was a local orphanage in Magnolia, funded by donors and occasional government handouts, with about 30 kids between the ages of 5 and 18. The Fullbusters had been an average family, with enough to get by and indulge in the occasional luxury, but without much money put away for long term use. After the sudden passing of Gray's parents, he didn't have much to his name. He had to rely on pro-bono help and social welfare, and finally when he was sent to live in the orphanage, he had already met up with so many social workers that he didn't bother about who they were anymore – they were just _another social worker,_ and he was just _another poor orphan._

Despite his young age, he knew what their whispers about him were about. Their whispers of pity, their looks of sympathy – all these meaningless words and actions that were utterly useless, because at the end of the day, they always left. Nobody ever stayed.

Orphan – that was certainly a new word that was added to his dictionary. Synonyms: _parentless, abandoned, unwanted, a mistake, unloved, left behind, alone_.

While he knew he wasn't left behind intentionally, it didn't change the fact that he was all alone now in the world. He had nobody to turn to, and nobody loved him. The day Ultear told him his parents were never coming back again, his sparkling navy eyes had lost their light, turning into soulless orbs. He became a boy who lost his youth – a shadow of his child self.

Gray hated the orphanage. Everyday was a reminder of what he didn't have – parents – and it didn't help that the orphanage regularly received visitors who were looking to adopt. Most of these visitors were hoping to adopt younger children, mainly the ones who were below 8. When Gray entered, he was 10, which already put him above the 'attractive age group'. At the same time, he was envious of the older children in the orphanage, because once they turned 18, they were allowed to leave and forge their own paths. 18 was a long way away for Gray, and he resented his situation with all his heart.

He also hated the orphanage workers. He hated how patronising they were, how they would shower him with fake smiles and fake niceties, while in their hearts, he knew they all thought he was a difficult child. They all wished he could be nicer, sweeter, kinder, warmer – everything that he wasn't, and he hated that nobody tried to understand him for who he was. He hated that they all wished he was somebody else; he hated that nobody tried to love him for who he was; he hated that he was never able to measure up to the person they all visualised in their minds. Couldn't anyone see him for Gray, instead of seeing him as someone that could be _better_?

He became quiet and withdrawn, cold to everyone. He never broke a smile, never tried to be nice, and only kept to himself. Anger became his refuge, and he would turn anyone who tried to get close to him away with bursts of cold fury. He became known for his cutting words, his icy attitude, and his lack of emotion.

Because of his cold demeanour, life became harder for Gray. The orphanage workers got tired of trying to deal with him, and the older kids started to despise him. The younger kids were afraid of him, and kept their distance. He was often picked on by the older orphans, and his angry outbursts only served to add on to the sick joy that they derived from bullying him.

There was only one thing that kept him sane – his love for paper origami. As a child, he had always loved the idea of creating, and the most accessible resource his parents could provide him with was paper. He had a knack for being able to make wonderful creations from a piece of paper – ranging from realistic animals, to lovely flowers, to a beautiful handcrafted house. His mother had loved his origami work, and they decorated all corners of the house. In the orphanage, he never asked for anything – but when he was sent to the orphanage, Ultear had made the organisation promise to always make sure he had paper for his origami. They thought it was a slightly ridiculous promise in the beginning, but over the years, they came to realise that Gray really took his origami seriously. He would spend hours on end on making new origami creations, and would even get into fights when other kids made fun of his origami work. Origami was his safe haven, and the only time he ever displayed emotions on his face was when he was wholly concentrated on a new piece – only then would you be able to see the way his eyes followed his deft fingers sharply, unblinking, with an intense but yet loving gaze. It was as though he was coaxing his paper lovingly, moulding them into beautiful sculptures with tender care.

Five years passed by. As Gray grew older, he shot up, tall and darkly handsome. His navy hair complimented his navy orbs perfectly, and his voice deepened into a smooth baritone. When visitors came by, looking for a potential child to adopt, most would pause upon seeing him – but his cold, piercing gaze would turn them away almost immediately, sending chills up their spine. Nobody dared to come close enough to him to even find out if there was anything below that freezing exterior… that is, until Ur.

Ur was a pretty woman in her early thirties, and had quit her job in the corporate world to follow her dream of becoming an artist. She had also come out of a recent divorce, a marriage during which she had suffered a miscarriage. Having started a new phase of her life, she decided that she would give a child a new lease of life as well – through adopting a child from a local orphanage. She had always wanted a child of her own, but since her circumstances didn't allow her to have her own child, she decided to circumvent that by adopting instead.

When she first came to the orphanage, she didn't have any criteria in mind. She only told the orphanage worker that she wanted to meet every child, and that when she meets the right child, she will know. The worker had agreed hesitantly, but it turned out that she was right. The moment Ur laid eyes on Gray – she knew, it was going to be Gray.

To be honest, Gray didn't know what Ur ever saw in him. He had thought she was pretty, and had a very motherly look, but he expected her to be like all the other visitors. He was the unwanted child, and it wasn't going to change. When he met eyes with Ur, he was mesmerized by her similar navy orbs – he had never met anyone with eyes the same colour as his before. But more than that, he saw the genuine love that they held – towards him, a random orphan that she was meeting for the very first time. It just didn't make sense.

In two days, the orphanage workers were packing up all his belongings, and telling him that he had been adopted by that pretty lady – Ur, they said her name was. Ur was going to be his new foster parent, his new mother. _Mother_ … it was a strange and unfamiliar word.

His world made a 180-degree change. Ur was the complete opposite of him – she was sweet, caring, thoughtful, warm and loving. When Gray first went home with her, he couldn't get used to his new situation. He was extremely disconcerted, and the sudden change in environment freaked him out. He didn't know how to behave around Ur, unsure of how to treat her home, and he hated all that uncertainty. His anxiety translated into anger, which was the emotion he was most familiar with, and it manifested itself in frequent lash-outs at Ur. But Ur took it all – and never blamed it on him.

She reacted to his cold, harsh words with warm reassurances; his angry tantrums with patient forgiveness; and she showed him gradually that she was always going to be there for him. She taught him that he didn't need to be afraid anymore, that he didn't need to be someone else, and that she would love him for who he was. She taught him how to open up, how to start loving again, and to embrace his past hurt as a part of him – something that made him who he was, but didn't have to define his entire existence.

She taught him how to grow from pain, how to deal with loss, and how to move on. She appreciated his origami, and started learning with him so they could do it together. She showed him that life didn't have to be lonely even when you've lost someone close to your heart, and she taught him that everyone enters and leaves your life for a reason. They've merely fulfilled their role, and were making way for the next angel to come by. To Gray, Ur was his saving grace, the angel that God blessed him with that he didn't deserve. The emptiness in his soul gradually disappeared as Ur's warmth chased it away, replacing it with hope, a feeling he thought he'd never feel again. Hope of a better life, hope of happiness returning.

The year that Gray turned 17, he had come home from school one Friday, eager to share his day with Ur, his foster mother. He was looking forward to the weekend, because she had agreed to go ice-skating with him. Besides origami, he had a newfound love for all things winter, because it was Ur's favourite season.

When he had arrived home in the late afternoon, he found Ur all dressed up, excitedly applying makeup and humming to herself. He found out that she had a date with a guy, Rufus, one of her past clients. They had hit it off pretty well through work, and he had expressed a romantic interest in her.

Gray didn't know what to make of it, but he wanted Ur to be happy, and if it meant having someone else enter their lives, he would gladly accept it.

In the span of two months, Rufus had moved into Ur's place, to live with the two of them. To Gray, it felt like someone had intruded the new world that he had precariously built up over the last two years, and he didn't know how their lives would change with Rufus in the picture. He still didn't like uncertainty, but while old Gray would have gotten angry and expressed his immense displeasure to Ur, current Gray had learnt how to put others before himself, and he kept his negative comments to himself. He knew Ur deserved happiness of her own, and she had already devoted two years to looking after him, and loving him alone. He couldn't bring himself to stop her from pursuing her own happiness, especially after all she had done for him.

Gray however, didn't exactly get along with Rufus. Rufus was an arrogant, self-absorbed man, who would spare no thought for the people around him, if they didn't serve him any purpose. His only exception was Ur, but even his treatment of Ur started deteriorating as time went by. Rufus managed several art galleries around the region for a large company, but business started slowing down when another country started gaining recognition as a new art hub. Because of that, a couple of the art galleries he managed had to close down, and he was soon retrenched due to the company's declining financials.

Rufus took his anger and frustration out on Ur, and Gray. He couldn't deal with the humiliation at having lost his job, and having to rely on his girlfriend to support him. He tried unsuccessfully to find a new job, but months went by without any offers. His anger issues worsened, and he got into frequent arguments with both Ur and Gray, to the point of getting physical. It became common for the both of them to sport marks and bruises from particularly bad fights.

Finally, Gray walked out of the house, never to return – the day that Ur had come to his defence from Rufus. It was yet another argument between Rufus and Gray, but this time, Rufus had been drinking. Gray had shouted a series of derogatory terms at him, and extremely infuriated, Rufus had picked up a stool, and thrown it at Gray. Gray was mentally prepared for the blow, but he didn't expect to Ur to jump in front him – taking the hit from the hard stool to her head.

He had looked on in horror as Ur screamed in pain, clutching her head with both hands. Wavering on her feet, she turned towards Gray, saying, "I'm sorry, Gray," before she collapsed on the spot. In worry and fear, he had given Rufus a hard punch to the nose, before rushing Ur to the hospital. Things had finally gotten out of hand.

The impact to Ur's head had caused internal bleeding and a blood clot to form within her skull, resulting in the need for immediate surgery. Gray spent sleepless days and nights worrying about his foster mother, and blaming himself for her state. If only he had held his tongue back, if only he hadn't put himself in that position… if only he had stopped Ur from getting too close to Rufus, if only he had expressed his disapproval earlier… all these might have been avoided. They could still be living in their happy world, with only the two of them protecting each other. Nobody else would be able to hurt them then. Why didn't he do anything about it then?

He never thought he'd have to worry about losing a parent again. The first time he lost his biological parents, it felt like his heart had been gauged out. He lived as a heartless and soulless being for five, long years. When he met Ur, she was the one person who cared enough to want to mend the hole, and put in place a new heart – a brand new, beating heart that was carved into existence through her tender love and warmth. And now, as he came to the realisation that he could have lost Ur – he realised he wouldn't be able to live through another loss. He just couldn't. He loved her with his life, and this time, he would do something about it. That's why he couldn't stay any longer.

When Ur recovered from her surgery, Gray told her of his decision – he was going to leave the home. Ur had broken down in tears, asking him to change his mind and to stay with her, but he couldn't any more. He knew Ur still loved Rufus, and he knew she wouldn't leave him. To Gray, he thought the reason why Rufus treated her badly was because of him, the adopted child. If he left, things would probably get better. For her sake, he would remove the catalyst – himself. He didn't want her to have to choose between him and Rufus – so he decided to take himself out of the picture.

* * *

The gang's name was Avatar. Their primary business was in drug dealing, but to cover their illegal operations, owned multiple food & beverage companies as an elaborate money-laundering scheme. They were a regional gang, operating out of several cities in the country. The Magnolia arm had short of 30 members, with the latest rookie being Gray. Despite his short tenure with the gang, he was the most promising rookie – with his dark charisma, detached demeanour and cold approach to handling bad clients.

Gray was merciless, and he often left debtors with more than one body part broken. He could take a severe beating in silence, and that earned him his nickname – the Ice Devil Slayer. Joining a gang that dealt with narcotics meant that he would inevitably get into drugs himself, and getting into violent clashes with other gangs also meant that he would end up with his own fair share of injuries.

The worst scar he received was one on his left wrist, when a rival gang had taken him captive, and had forcefully broken his wrist – the arm that he had used to break someone else's leg with a metal pole. He had been held hostage by the gang for three days, during which they beat him up severely, burnt him in multiple areas with cigarette butts, and broke his wrist. He was convinced that he was going to die there – until his fellow gang members finally found the hideout he was kept in, and violently beat up the entirety of the rival gang.

His life as a narcotic gang member was brutal, savage and immensely violent – but it was just how the game went. Where there was drug money involved, violence was bound to be present. Even so, despite the pain and violence of the life, Gray at least felt needed, validated, wanted. He revelled in the power that he had, and while he didn't necessarily enjoy dishing out pain, he liked the fact that he was in control. That people feared him, listened to him, respected him. Control was something that he had never had in his life, ever since his parents had died, and since then, he just had to follow the whims of whosever purview he came under. He regained some control of his life when Ur had adopted him, but once Rufus came into the picture, what little control or certainty he had was thrown out the window.

To him, being part of Avatar meant that he finally belonged. As warped as it seemed, he saw this gang as family, which was further entrenched when they came to his rescue. Gray was even willing to lay his life down for Avatar's honour.

Fortunately for him, albeit not to his knowledge, the drug cartel was being hunted down by a global narcotics investigative force, and a successful local raid in Magnolia left most of the gang's main members in police custody, including Gray. Seeing as how Gray was the newest member of the gang, having only joined for a year, and how he wasn't actually involved in the drug dealing, other than debt collection – he was sentenced to a 2-year long rehab and reformative program.

* * *

Being in the rehab centre reminded him of his days in the orphanage – back in a place where the pests of society gathered, or rather, put away, hidden away from society's view. Gray was angry – the side of him that was buried by Ur's presence in his life resurfaced, and his cold, angry aura was extremely reminiscent of his 15-year old self. Except this time, he had been hardened by the harsh reality of the outside world, and his body bore physical scars of the external chaos, and evidence of the violent nature of gangs.

Two years in this stupid centre… Gray wondered if Ur had tried to find him after he had walked out on her. When he was with Avatar, he often thought of Ur, but the gang's activities kept him so preoccupied that he didn't have much time to mope around. Thinking about his foster mother wasn't exactly an option when death was a possibility every single day.

Now that he had all the time in the world, locked up in this stupid place, his mind inevitably wandered back to Ur. Did she miss him? Was she still with Rufus? Did she finally ditch that useless son of a bitch? Would they ever have a chance of getting back what they once had – as mother and son?

Gray had never been good at dealing with his emotions. For him, there were two options: he either ran away from them by distracting himself with something else, or he blocked it off entirely, choosing to ignore it. The former resulted in his pursuit of anger, violence and control; the latter resulted in him closing himself off to the world, and becoming ice-blooded. Right at this point in time, he didn't know how to feel.

Eight months into his rehab program, he finally got his answer about Ur. A rehab worker had called him into a visiting room, where a woman wearing a social welfare shirt was waiting. He was puzzled when he saw her – he was already past 18, so why would they still be looking for him?

"Hi Gray, I'm Meredy, with Magnolia Social Services. I hope you have been well… and I would like to offer my sincere condolences to you regarding Ur," she introduced herself.

Con…dolences? Wait, what? "What do you mean, condolences?" Gray questioned coldly, standing stiffly in front of the worker, his eyes hard.

Meredy's eyes widened slightly, her mouth opening into a small 'o' of surprise, before she collected herself. Gray watched her as she took a small breath, before explaining, "Uh Gray… I'm not sure if you heard, but Ur passed away a month ago..."

Gray took a step back in shock, and another. One hand flew up to his head, and the other clenched into a fist by his side. "What?! How?!"

Meredy took a step forward, raising an arm and intending to place it on Gray to calm him down, but his eyes flashed angrily and he took another warning step back. She paused in her advances, and decided to just stand where she was. "Ur was found in her apartment, with multiple stab wounds. By the time the paramedics had arrived, it was too late to save her. The police has arrested Rufus, her then-boyfriend, who is suspected of murdering her."

No… Gray slowly dropped to his knees in despair. His other hand came up to his head, and he clutched desperately at his hair, refusing to believe what he was hearing. Ur, dead? Killed by Rufus? Why was he away all this time trying to be some hero on the streets, when he could have stayed and protected Ur from the monster that had infiltrated into their home? What had he been doing the past year that was more important than ensuring the safety of his foster mother? Why couldn't he have put away his selfish desires and just put up with everything for Ur's sake? Why did he sentence Ur to her death the minute he chose to walk away? Why? _Why?_

Gray choked out a sob, hot tears coming to his eyes. "No… no…. no…" he muttered repeatedly to himself, as his tears started to fall, leaving wet streaks down his face. This couldn't be happening – he left because he thought he was the catalyst for Rufus' violent tendencies, but why did it continue even after he left? Was his leaving not enough? Was his leaving… _for nothing_?

That realisation seared excruciatingly into his chest, and he wanted nothing more than to turn back time, to undo his stupid actions, and to change everything. It didn't matter if he had to give up everything, he just wanted Ur alive again. He just wanted _his mother_ – alive again. Was that too much to ask?

Gray's shoulders shook violently as he became hysterical, his pained cries reaching through the walls to the rehab workers, causing a few to rush in anxiously. Upon seeing him on his knees, sobbing hard, they had all been taken aback – for the silent, cold, detached ice persona had been reduced to a hurting, crying mess.

* * *

The rest of rehab went by in a blur. Gray fell into a depressive state, and started self-harming. It was his escape from the agony in his heart – at least he could see the cuts on his arms and know where the physical pain was coming from – but the continuous, tormenting pain in his chest was unforgiving, unyielding, and constantly there. The rehab centre forced him to start attending therapy.

He hated therapy, at first. He hated how the therapist would sit there, with what he perceived as a look of pity, and talk to him with condescension. He hated how they tried to coax him into spilling his heart out with the promise that they'd understand. Bullshit! They didn't know shit, alright? Nobody, _absolutely nobody_ could understand the pain he was going through. _Pretentious scum._ Gray continued to cut himself; physical pain to him was a beautiful relief.

Until one day, instead of the usual therapist, he saw Ultear sitting there, with tears threatening to spill. He broke down, seeing his childhood babysitter look at him with such sadness in her eyes. She had taken him into her arms, and had spent two hours just running her fingers through his hair, allowing him to cry himself tired on her shoulder. From then, it was always Ultear attending to him during his therapy sessions. She was the only one he trusted enough to talk to. With Ultear's encouragement, he restarted his origami hobby, and it became his outlet for his pain. He created beautiful paper art with the hands that have maimed people, and unbelievably, as each day passed, Gray began to heal.

The day finally came for his release. 'How things have changed in the last three years,' Gray mused to himself as he stood in front of the gates, facing the outside world for real.

He had spent too much of the past two decades of his life hurting. That hurt would never go away, and the pain would always be there, but like what Ur had taught him – his pain did not have to define his existence.

_Would Ur be proud of what you've achieved, and what you've become?_ That was the question Ultear had posed to him during their final therapy session. In that moment, he had made it his life motto – deciding to dedicate his life to answering that question.

Gray knew in his heart, that no matter what he did from now on, he would do his utmost best to ensure that it would be something Ur would be proud of him for. After all, he was her son.

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**Oh, Gray... :'(** Thank you for sticking with me, and please leave a review :)

x, WinterMaidenMuse


	4. Beauty of Brokenness

**A/N:**

This is the final chapter of the story :) Thank you for sticking with me through this heavy story, and I hope you liked this short fic! I'd love a review!

x, WinterMaidenMuse

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail or any of its characters.**

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**Chapter 4: Beauty of Brokenness**

They had been sitting in the dark of Gray's living room for the last two and a half hours. It was now 6.30AM, and the sky was gradually becoming streaked with wide strokes of purple, orange and pink hues, signs of the sun awakening from its nocturnal slumber.

Before Gray began his story, he had refilled their glasses with warm water. Both their glasses were now sitting empty.

Lucy was at a loss for words – she didn't know what to say. After listening to Gray's account, she saw him in a different light. Beneath the hard, cold exterior was a young boy who had lost so much, and who had not known certainty and belonging. A boy who was forced to grow up before his time, and who was thrown out into the harsh world out there and left to fend for himself. Who could blame Gray for the choices that he had made? Who could blame a person for hurting, especially when nobody could see his hurt?

Lucy opened her mouth to say something, but she stopped when she saw Gray smile at her. "You don't have to say anything, Lucy."

"I know, but… I'm sorry that nobody saw your hurt, Gray," she replied softly.

He tipped his head towards her. "Just like nobody could see yours." Lucy kept quiet, her eyes dropping to her hands on her lap. However, her eyes shot back up when she heard the sound of Gray getting up from his chair.

He went over to a set of drawers that were situated against a wall behind Lucy, and opened the top one, taking out a few pieces of paper. Opening the drawer next to the first one, he took out a pair of scissors. He returned to his chair, and sitting back down, took one piece of paper and started folding.

Lucy watched in wonder as his long, slender fingers worked their magic, making precise measurements and folds. She couldn't help admiring the way his brows were subconsciously drawn together in his intense concentration, his eyes never once leaving the paper that he was tenderly moulding into a beautiful masterpiece. As more light started filtering into the room through the window with the brightening of the sky, she started noticing more of his facial features, such as his sharp nose bridge and chiselled jawline. He was actually really good looking, she realised.

Finishing up his origami piece, Gray picked it up gently and gestured for Lucy to give him her hand. She looked at him curiously before stretching one arm out, palm facing upwards, and he placed the paper art on it. It was a beautifully folded, intricate swan. Lucy let out a small gasp as she swivelled her hand around to fully admire the paper swan in its entirety. The details completely blew her away; she didn't know it was possible to create such a precise sculpture out of paper. "It's absolutely beautiful," she breathed.

"What do you see?" Gray asked.

"I see a swan, right?"

He nodded. "Yup, it's a swan. See, that's us when we were young. When we were just children, and we were introduced to the world – we were pure, innocent, complete, and full of love and life. That's how most people start out, as ignorant children in this big, big world."

Gray took the swan from Lucy's hand, and picked up the scissors. Lucy saw what he was intending to do, and tried to reach out to grab the swan from his hand. "Don't!" she cried.

He swiftly avoided her arm and took a step away from her. Holding the swan out, he lifted the pair of scissors and proceeded to snip away a small part of each of the swan's wings. Lucy's face fell as the small pieces of paper gently floated to the floor. "But life's a bitch. Things happen, and they chip away at us. They do things that hurt us, but we don't understand why."

Gray gave Lucy a quick glance, before his eyes returned to the swan that he held. Continuing to make small cuts on other parts of the swan, much to Lucy's dismay, he continued, "These hurt. They cut away our wings, strip us of our innocence, and take away our desire to fly. We feel ugly, we feel like we don't belong anymore, and we feel like we've turned into someone that we don't know.

With every wound that we receive, and every loss that we go through, we think we've become less and less of who we once were. We think we've become broken, unwanted and there isn't a place for us in this world because we don't deserve it. We think," he paused, "that this is simply punishment for mistakes that we've made."

Lucy's breath caught in her throat as Gray's words hit directly home.

"But we're wrong," he whispered. He had finally stopped cutting pieces of the paper swan, and put the scissors down. His fingers slowly began to unfold the origami swan, and expecting to see a torn and tattered piece of scrap paper, Lucy was blown away when Gray's fingers gently revealed an elaborate paper cutting of a magnificent butterfly. The details were absolutely stunning. In each of the butterfly's wings, there were three big sections, each with its own unique cut-out pattern. Swirls, curves, lines, florals – they all came together in a wondrous myriad of intricacy. Altogether, across the animal, there were six sections of unique patterns, each full of complex detailing that only a true master could accomplish. Lucy sat there at a loss for words, amazed by Gray's workmanship.

"We're wrong, because our pain, our loss, our hurt – makes us who we are. Each of these holes," he gestured at several little gaps in the butterfly, "were caused by the pain that was inflicted upon us. When we're going through it, we don't see it, but at the end of the day, when we take a step back and unfold our life, we'll realise that they have made us who we are today – just as beautiful and just as whole, except in a different way. Our pain doesn't define us, but it makes us who we are. This is the beauty of brokenness." Gray smiled and placed the paper cutting on Lucy's lap.

Lucy couldn't help the tears that started welling up in her eyes again. When she had first decided to break into this man's apartment, she definitely didn't expect an impromptu therapy session. But now that she was sitting here and listening to this man speak, she realised how much she actually needed to hear those words. To know that she's not being punished, to know that she wasn't the only person hurting, and to know that there was still beauty in being broken. She let her cries out, sobbing hard, her tears dropping onto the fragile paper cutting and soaking it through and through. "I'm s-sorry," she sniffed.

"It's alright," Gray replied, slightly awkward now and not knowing exactly what to do with a bawling stranger in his living room. "Uh, tissue?" he took out a tissue box from underneath the coffee table.

Lucy let out a small laugh and took the box from him gratefully.

"So uh," he started, after her sobs had slowed down, "why don't you explain why you decided to break into my apartment tonight?"

"Oh," Lucy realised that they hadn't actually gotten that part sorted out yet. "I, uh, work part-time at Fairy Tail Club, but it's not really enough to get by. So actually… I look out for rich customers at work, and then break into their apartments and steal things to make some extra money."

Gray raised an eyebrow. "Rich customers?"

A blush painted itself across Lucy's cheeks. "Well, yeah… people who splash tons of money in a night, and flaunt their expensive stuff to their friends. You," she said pointedly at him, "were one of the people that caught my eye. You looked rich, and you were hanging out with the gang thugs," Lucy finished. "But I'm guessing they're your… Avatar acquaintances?"

"Something like that," Gray muttered, as Lucy smiled at his reluctance to admit his association with them.

The sun had risen by now, and the neighbourhood was beginning to stir. Since it was a weekend, there weren't many people on the streets at this time of day, but the birds were making their presence known, and the occasional shuffle of feet could be heard along the pavement. They sat there in companionable silence, with their faces turned towards the window, people-watching and simply enjoying the peace of the morning.

"Hey, Gray?" Lucy's hesitant voice broke through the quietness.

"Mm?" Gray turned back to face Lucy.

"I'm sorry for breaking into your apartment. And thank you for this," she lifted the slightly soggy paper-cutting from her lap. "You didn't have to do this at all, especially not at 3AM, and not for an almost-thief like me. Really, thank you. I needed that."

Gray let out a laugh. "I hope you don't think that I do this all the time, for every almost-thief that breaks into my house."

Grinning, Lucy winked at him. "Maybe not for every thief, only the pretty ones."

Gray rolled his eyes at her. As she gazed back at him, she felt a comforting warmth radiate from him, and it felt nice. She did wonder though, how he managed to pick the pieces of himself up and put them back together again. It was something that she had been struggling with for years. And so she decided to ask him.

"Gray… how did you make the pain go away?"

He looked back at her, and she was taken aback at the sadness that suddenly appeared in the depths of his navy eyes.

"The pain hasn't gone away, Lucy. Every time I think of my parents, and Ur, my heart hurts. There are nights I lie in bed sleepless, and think about the wrong decisions I've made and the regrets I have. There are days I'm in the shower, and the memories of them creep up on me, and I find myself a crying mess. Almost everyday, I look at their photos, and tell them that I wished they were here. You know, it doesn't get any less painful... but you learn how to make peace with the pain."

Lucy stood up and walked over to where Gray was sitting, before seating herself gently on the edge of the coffee table in front of him. She reached forward, hesitantly grasping his left hand with both of hers, her fingers smoothing along the angry-looking scar that protruded from his left wrist. "Will you teach me how to make peace with the pain?" she asked softly.

His right hand moved from his lap to enclose her small hands holding his left. "If you'd let me, I will."

**\- End -**

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I hope everyone takes a listen to **Be As One** by **w-inds!** The feels are real, haha. Do leave a review if you enjoyed this fic :)

x, WinterMaidenMuse


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